


morning will wait

by singingintime (laulan)



Series: Stars and Planets 'Verse [9]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Earth, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Music, Early Mornings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-03
Updated: 2009-11-03
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15668505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laulan/pseuds/singingintime
Summary: Jim wakes up and knows he's alone in bed. The covers are warm, but not warm enough, and if he slides his fingers a couple inches over, the sheets are cold."Spock," he calls without opening his eyes, voice rough with sleep.





	morning will wait

**Author's Note:**

> Original note:
> 
> This is a little tiny thing for [](https://betweenthebliss.livejournal.com/profile)[**betweenthebliss**](https://betweenthebliss.livejournal.com/)\--partly as a thank you for being so awesome to work with, partly as a little apology for not getting done near as many pieces of art as I wanted to for her, and partly just because I think she's ace and because she asked for fluff to mitigate the effects of [the perception, it is wrong](http://singingintime.livejournal.com/7182.html). XD She wanted the first time they sleep together or the morning after--I have plans for both of those, so instead this is just _a_ morning after. ♥

Jim wakes up and knows he's alone in bed. The covers are warm, but not warm enough, and if he slides his fingers a couple inches over, the sheets are cold.

"Spock," he calls without opening his eyes, voice rough with sleep.

"Yes, Jim?" comes a reply from somewhere behind him. Jim scrunches up his face and makes himself turn over, forcing his eyes open while he's at it. God, mornings. Jim is so not a fan. Squinting, he picks out Spock's form at the desk, fingers splayed on the keyboard.

"Why are you all the way over there?" he asks. Well, okay, more like demands--but that's all semantics, really, which is not Jim's favorite division of linguistics, thanks. Look, point is, it's early, and Spock is about four feet from the bed, four feet too far by Jim's estimation.

"I am checking email," Spock replies, in that impeccably calm voice of his. He sounds so _awake_. "Drafting an email to a professor, to be precise," he elaborates.

Jim levers himself upwards and peers through the grey half-light at the clock. "Dude, it's like six in the _morning_ ," he slurs. "You're over there. You're _supposed_ to be over here, Spock, in bed with me. Fix this."

Spock's laugh is fond and electric-bright in the dark. It trails down Jim's spine deliciously, making his stomach flutter and his skin ache with the need to be closer. Spock doesn't seem to be on the same wavelength, though--he doesn't move, eyes focused on the bright square of the computer sceen. Damn. Jim curls himself further under the warmth of the blankets and shuffles closer to the edge of the bed.  
  
"C'mon. Email can wait. Come back to bed," he tries again, breaking off to yawn.  
  
"I am unsure as to whether you've heard, but patience is a virtue," Spock intones. Jim can still hear that hint of laughter in his voice, though, and he can't quite keep the smile of triumph off his face when Spock leans back from the computer screen and turns to face him, head silhouetted by the weak window light.  
  
"You will not cease until I go over there, will you?" Spock asks.  
  
"Nope," Jim tells him, bright as sunshine.  
  
Spock sighs, acting all put-upon, but Jim's heard that song and dance before. This round? All his. Grinning, he watches Spock shift out of the chair and over to the bed, graceful even at this hour. He holds up the blankets, lets Spock into the pocket of warmth, and slides up against his side as soon as he's got them properly tucked in.

"Hi," he whispers.

"Hello, Jim." Spock's voice is warm and amused at his ear, and Jim grins.

"See?" he murmurs, drawing Spock's arm around his waist. "This is better'n email. 'S too damn early anyhow."  
  
"It's six forty-five, Jim."  
  
"'Xactly."

Spock laughs again--that soft, shivery-hot curl of air against Jim's skin--and kisses Jim's neck behind his ear. "If you say so, Jim."  
  
"I do," Jim says, then, "hey," turning his head and grinning at his boyfriend. "Good morning."  
  
"Good morning, Jim."  
  
He can barely make out the curve of smile on Spock's lips in the dark, but he can hear it in Spock's voice, anyhow. Feel it in the way Spock's hand is tucked gently under his hip, thumb moving absently over the skin there, and in the way he's pushed up so close against Jim, like space between them is entirely a thing of the past.  
  
Biting back a smile, Jim settles in closer and closes his eyes. In an hour it'll be time to get out of bed and face the music of Things To Do, Places to Be, but they can have this little time to themselves. For now, they can have this.

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer: This story is an old work, so there's probably parts of it that would make me wince or that I would disagree with now. However, I'm not going to go back and edit it (unless something sticks out to me egregiously) because this is meant to be a record of the story I wrote at the time more than anything else. I'm not really looking for detailed constructive criticism on this story for those reasons, but if something in it seems harmful, feel free to let me know and I'll see what I can do to address it. <3


End file.
